


Keeping The Secret

by mannybothans



Series: Don't Tell Sam [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, F/M, Filth, Guilt, Kink, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn Without Plot, Pure Smut, Secrets, Sibling Relationship, Taboo, discreet sexual acts, dom!Dean, non-blood siblings, safe words, sam might??? be playing dumb, sexual acts in front of others, sibling dynamics, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 05:27:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18685051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mannybothans/pseuds/mannybothans
Summary: part 2 of Don't Tell Sam - Dean knows just how to push your buttons





	Keeping The Secret

While you’d been preoccupied with Dean, a few of your friends had already met up at the local watering hole and were a couple drinks in, based on their social media posts. They were waiting for you, the one who’d been so impatient to get out, that you hurriedly fixed yourself up, pulled on some clean underwear, and rushed downstairs.

The guys were sitting in the living room on their phones and didn’t even glance up at you as you darted by.

“Okay, I’m going out, see you later,” you called out as quickly and calmly as possible.

“Oh, have fun!” Sam responded as you ducked out the door.

**

The more you reminisced on the fact you and Dean fucked, the guiltier you felt. You wondered if you should ask your friends about it and decided not to – they wouldn’t understand. The only time you ever talked about the Winchesters was to mention your brothers. And plenty of your friends and acquaintances had pointed out how hot they were, just to be met with your signature eye roll. No, this was something you couldn’t fathom talking about to anyone, except maybe Dean. As you downed drink after drink, you made up your mind that you’d confront him tonight and tell him it could never happen again.

After that, you relaxed a little bit and let yourself have some fun, sending the guys a quick text about how you’d be out late and they didn’t need to wait up for you before you put your phone on silent. Four of you ended up shutting down the bar and shared a cab ride home. You were the first to get dropped off and even still, your house was dark and quiet.

You moved as silently as possible, taking off your shoes before you got inside and tip-toed up the stairs. With a quiet sigh, you glanced at Dean’s bedroom door, which was across the hall from yours. In your inebriated state, you considered going over there and sliding into his bed – _no, no, don’t do that, it’s wrong. What you did today was so, so wrong. You’re calling it quits tomorrow, remember?_ A frown tugged at your lips and you retreated into your own bedroom, which shared a wall with Sam’s. Shutting the door, you undressed in the dark and collapsed into your bed, resolute to talk to Dean tomorrow.

**

The next morning, you woke up to the smells of bacon and coffee permeating the entire house. It was Sunday morning and you knew Dean was downstairs cooking up a breakfast bigger than the three of you could put away – just like every Sunday. You rolled out of bed, more hung over than you thought you should’ve been, and pulled on some sweat pants and a dark tee shirt that was two sizes too big. A glance in the mirror had you wiping off smeared mascara as you marched downstairs.

Sam was reading the paper at the small kitchen table and glanced up when he saw you, giving you a big grin. “Hey, Y/n. How was your night?”

“Hm? Good, thanks Sam,” you yawned. “Coffee?” Your eyes moved over to the pot just as Dean pointed at it with the spatula he was using to flip the bacon. “Awesome,” you muttered and shuffled over.

“Little hung over there, princess?” Dean asked, glancing over as you poured yourself a mug. The way his eyes drifted down your body didn’t escape you but you decided not to react – at least not outwardly. His tone was normal, nothing hinting at a shared secret.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you shrugged, shuffling back over to the table to sit across from Sam.

“Hey, how’d your date with Gabe go the other night, by the way?” Sam piped up, setting the paper aside for the time being.

“Wh- um? It went fine,” you stuttered.

“She’s seeing him again this week,” Dean interjected matter-of-factly.

“Oh? That’s awesome! I’m glad one of us is finally dating again,” Sam smirked. “Was thinkin’ we’d have to start calling ourselves the Lonesome Three Amigos, here.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he approached the table with a plate of bacon and a plate of eggs. “Please, Sam. Just because your job is your life doesn’t mean the rest of us aren’t getting any. Right, sis?” He winked at you and you felt your face turn instantly red. Why in the fuck would he bring that up _now?_ And then he sat right next to you, his thigh bumping yours under the table.

“Um, I, I don’t, I mean,”

“No sex talk at the table, dude,” Sam interrupted, saving you from having to answer, while he scraped eggs and bacon onto a plate for himself.

“Prude,” Dean sighed, shaking his head. He nudged your thigh with his again and you didn’t dare look up from your breakfast lest Sam see the guilt all over your face. Minutes went by with the three of you eating in companionable quietness. Sam returned to reading the paper for several minutes and then looked up, shifting his eyes from Dean to you and back again.

“Wait. Why are you guys so quiet? Normally, I can’t get you two to shut up.”

You shrugged, opting to fill your mouth with coffee so you wouldn’t have to answer.

“Little sis over here’s too hung over to think of anything witty,” Dean smirked. “Wouldn’t be fair to pick on her.”

“How thoughtful of you,” you muttered.

Sam just sat back and studied the two of you again before he lifted the paper once more, blocking his view of you. As if it was his cue, Dean’s hand slipped between your thighs and the touch shocked you so much you nearly jumped out of your seat. “You alright over there?” Sam asked, seemingly oblivious to everything else around him.

“J-just thought I felt a spider on my foot,” you lied, literally through your teeth, glaring at Dean and squeezing your thighs shut. Dean didn’t even glance at you. He just kept his hand where it was. You felt your sex start to throb with want, remembering how he filled you so completely, made you come so hard, and your resolve to end whatever this was started to soften. Dean lazily moved his hand, his pinky finger dragging along your folds, pushing into them through your sweats, and you knew you were going to be dripping wet in a matter of moments. Your thighs relaxed and Dean smirked around a piece of bacon as he turned his hand to cup your sex. Biting back a moan, you opened your thighs even more, staring fixatedly at Sam’s newspaper, ready to jump up the moment he set it aside.

“Lotta weird stuff going on lately,” Sam murmured, flipping the page. _Oh, you have no idea, bud_ , you thought. “Y/n, you want the puzzle pages?”

“Y-yeah, yes, please,” you said, trying to hide the desire in your voice as Dean teased you steadily under the table directly across from his brother.

“You’ve always been way better at those encrypted puzzles than me,” Sam continued, pulling the pages free and laying them aside without moving the paper. He fell quiet again as Dean quietly slipped his hand into your sweats and nearly sputtered on his coffee when he found you without panties on. You glanced over at Dean, afraid that if you tore your eyes away from the newspaper for even one second, Sam would look up and see what was happening. Dean had his lower lip pulled between his teeth and he was clearly concentrating on what he was doing to you. He turned his gaze to you and you held your breath at how dark it was; the green of his eyes was almost obscured by his pupils.

You slowly shook your head, giving him a pleading look as he spread your folds with his fingers. His brow furrowed, his lips parted, and he swirled the pad of his middle finger through your slick. _So wet,_ he mouthed, grinning. Then his middle finger slid into your warm hole and he swallowed, licking his lips.

Shifting in your seat, you glanced back over at Sam, sure he was going to put the paper down and see Dean’s hand down your pants at any second. Whatever guilt lingered about messing around with Dean quickly dissipated as he pumped his finger in and out of you at a steady, slow pace.

“What’s going on with you two?” Sam asked, sending your heart plummeting into your stomach right as Dean yanked his hand away and shifted in his own seat. “You’re way too quiet.”

“N-nothing, I just have a splitting headache,” you managed, sounding too breathless for your own liking.

Sam raised an eyebrow as he lowered the paper and his eyes took in your flushed appearance and glassy eyes. “Are you sure it’s just a hangover? You look sick,” he frowned slightly.

“I’m fine. Probably just need a shower,” you said, waving him off.

“Better get in before Dean uses all the hot water,” Sam pointed out and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Who’s the one who takes hour-long showers to wash his hair?” Dean shot back drily and Sam shook his head, snorting.

“I’m, I’m just gonna go shower,” you muttered, avoiding looking at Dean and Sam directly as you got up and hurried upstairs.

Sam watched you fly out of the room and then looked at his brother, who was pointedly staring at his phone. “She been acting weird lately?”

“Weirder than usual?” Dean asked, shaking his head and trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. “Can’t say I’ve noticed.”

“Huh,” Sam studied his brother for a moment longer before he resumed reading the paper.

In the relative safety of your bedroom, you let out a soft moan, rubbing your thighs together for the friction that you craved after Dean’s touch. You’d come so close to getting caught, one wrong misstep or careless noise and Sam would instantly know. He was too smart for his own good, sometimes, but thankfully he took your wrecked appearance as a sign of illness. Choosing to ignore how turned on you got by nearly being caught, you grabbed your towel and robe and headed into the bathroom, where you made certain you shut the door.

After turning on the water to heat up, you disrobed and then the door cracked open. You threw your towel around you quickly as Dean’s head poked into the bathroom.

“Dean!” You hissed. “What are you doing?! Get out!”

“Sammy’s downstairs watching some boring nature documentary,” he said lowly. His eyebrows flicked upwards as he grinned at your nakedness and pushed his way into the bathroom. “Figured we could finish what we started.”

“What _you_ started,” you whispered. All argument to stop this nonsense went right down the drain when Dean took his shirt off and tossed it on the floor. His pajama pants followed, releasing his half-hard cock that bobbed against his thighs. You swallowed, unable to not stare at his nakedness – he was built like a demigod. Soft and muscular all at once, he’d earned his muscles doing manual labor and not because he had hours every day to spend in a gym. His arms were thick, the muscles well-defined and proportional to his body. His pecs were pronounced and his abs weren’t chiseled, but rather subtle. His hips were narrow, lean, and his thighs were hard and sturdy. Christ, the man was perfection.

Dean watched you gaze at him, gave you a few moments to soak it all in, and then stepped forward and gently plucked your towel from your grasp. Your eyes lifted to his face as your breath caught in your throat and your first instinct was to fight him – to fight this, this feeling of lust. Another slight tug of your towel between his strong digits and you let it fall from your grasp, revealing your body to him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, bending his neck to nuzzle at your jaw. “Remember who you belong to?”

“You,” you breathed, goose bumps appearing on your flesh as he closed the distance between you, pressing firmly against you.

“Mm,” he nodded, placing kisses on your neck from collarbone to jaw. “You want your big brother to fuck you in the shower, baby girl? While Sammy’s downstairs?”

“Yes,” you moaned, tilting your head back. “Fuck, Dean.” One of his hands grasped your breast and the other wedged between your legs, finding your wetness to his liking. He wasted no time in sliding a finger inside of you.

“Jesus,” he gritted out. “So fucking wet for me. Sit on the sink,” he ordered. “Spread your legs.”

You did as you were told after a moment of hesitation; you knew what not following his directions would get you – and you couldn’t scream from being spanked with Sam right downstairs. Dean knelt down in front of you and you felt your cheeks turn red when you realized what he was doing. He smirked up at you and you almost came right there; then his tongue swept up your folds and you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, unable to watch him and keep yourself quiet. Dean Winchester used his lips and tongue in ways you’d never dreamed; he alternated between lightly sucking on your clit and dipping his tongue into you. Desperate to stay quiet, you only allowed yourself small gasps and light moans that you were positive the sound of the shower hid.

Dean’s eyes flicked up at you as he pushed two fingers into your core and watched your jaw drop in a silent moan. He wanted to hear your noises, wanted to make you scream, hear his name fall from your lips, but this would have to do until Sam wasn’t around. There was something inexplicably hot about a woman who could stay quiet, but it still tempted him to get you to make sounds. He closed his eyes again and swirled his tongue around your clit, dying to make you come again.

It only took couple more minutes before you were shaking and jerking on the bathroom counter, your orgasm flooding your senses and rocking you backwards. “Shitshitshitshitshit,” you gritted out through clenched teeth when Dean didn’t stop licking at you. You pushed at his head and he reluctantly pulled away, licking his lips and wiping his chin as he stood up. With shaky legs, you lowered yourself to the floor and Dean leaned down, claiming your mouth with his; he tasted like you. You moaned into his mouth and he reached down, grabbing your thighs and pulling your legs around his waist as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Holding you up, Dean walked the two of you over to the shower and stepped inside, shutting the glass door behind him while he pushed your back into the cold tile wall. His lips met yours once more and you grasped at his short hair, giving it a light tug while your tongues twined around one another.

He pulled his hips back a little bit and you felt his cock, which had been trapped against your abdomen, fall free and bump the inside of your thigh. Dean paused, the head of his cock pushing at your entrance, and pulled away from your mouth. “Color, princess.”

“Fucking green,” you muttered back, resuming the kiss immediately.

Dean pushed his cock all the way into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size or get used to it before he started pistoning his hips. A soft whimpering moan escaped your lips that he happily swallowed, returning it with a low groan. As much as you wanted to kiss him, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to stay quiet and you needed to concentrate. So, you pulled away and bit your lip, swallowing every urge to moan and cry out as he fucked you hard against the shower wall.

“Feel so fuckin’ good, sis,” he uttered, slamming his hips into yours just before his mouth latched onto your neck. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you suppressed another noise of pleasure. You weren’t sure how long you could hold out. “Fuck, I love your tight pussy,” he murmured directly into your ear. “Thought about your ass all night, how red it was when I was done with you, how it bounced when I rammed into you,” he trailed off, leaving you squirming and gasping.

“Dean, please,” you begged, although what you needed from him, you weren’t sure.

“Hm? Are you my dirty little slut, sis?” You nodded eagerly, afraid if you opened your mouth, you’d cry out your answer and then Sam would come running to see what all the commotion was. “What if Sammy’s right outside the door?” Dean said lowly, smirking wickedly. “Trying to hear all the filth his brother’s saying to his sister? You think Sammy’d get hard, knowing I was in here, fucking your brains out?”

An image of Sam, standing outside the bathroom – much the way Dean had been the day before – cock in hand, stroking as he strained to hear your soft moans and whimpers flashed through your mind. You choked back a sob, throwing your head back and hitting the shower wall harder than you’d intended. There was something wrong with you, how turned on you got at the idea of Sam jacking off to his brother fucking you.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Dean groaned, feeling your cunt tighten around him. “You like that? Want Sam to hear us and fuck his hand?” You nodded, whimpering and almost crying, now, at the mixture of pleasure and guilt you felt. It was overwhelming, listening to Dean spew this filth while he fucked you. His hips jerked harder, pushing against your tightening walls.

“Dean, please,” you repeated, tugging his hair even harder. He hissed in return and slapped the outside of your thigh.

“Nasty fucking girl,” he gritted out, clenching his jaw as he approached the point of no return. “Letting your brother fuck your brains out, wishing the other would catch you, huh?” He slapped your thigh again and then a third time when you didn’t even let a strangled yelp escape. You gasped on the third smack and felt him grin against your neck. Dean took a second to adjust you, still wrapped around his hips and shoulders, and then rocked his hips forward _just so_ , managing to push against your g-spot with every stroke.

Your eyes rolled back in your head once again as you gasped for air; you felt like you were drowning in pleasure and the need to scream. Tears stung your eyes at how easily Dean found his way around your body, how he knew exactly what to do to make you crumble.

“Dean, ‘m gonna,” you panted, trying desperately to stay quiet.

“Yeah? Again? Gonna come on my cock, sis?”

You nodded, drunk with pleasure, and when he slapped your thigh, you yelped without even thinking about it. Dean’s hand flew up to your mouth as your eyes widened and his hips stilled. A minute went by and there was no sound, no sign that Sam had heard you, and Dean grinned, resuming his thrusts that ensured you’d be walking funny for the next day or so. His pelvis hit your clit with every forward motion, his cock dragged along your g-spot, and it was mere seconds before you shook with the intensity of your climax, letting out a strangled wail into his hand.

Dean grunted and fucked into you harder, fighting against your pussy clenching down around him, and then he breathlessly pulled out and painted your stomach and inner thighs white with his come. Panting and shuddering, he milked himself and then let you down slowly on wobbly legs, removing his hand from your mouth.

A light knock came on the door and you gaped at Dean, freezing and not daring to move.

“Y/n? Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah, Sam,” you called out, giving Dean a warning glare.

“Just checking. You’ve been in there awhile.”

“All good,” you confirmed as Dean placed feather-light kisses on your shoulders, gently caressing the slap marks on your thigh. With his other hand, Dean reached up and tweaked a nipple and you almost keened out loud, managing to stop yourself at the last second.

“Okay, well, let me know if you need anything,” he said and retreated back downstairs.

“You want me to tell him you need his cock, too?” Dean smirked, chuckling lightly at the look on your face. “Shit, you do, don’t you?”

“Shut up, Dean,” you fired back, keeping your voice down.

“Hey, I won’t tell him,” he assured you, pulling you into his arms and against his hard body once more. “But if he finds out, well,” Dean shrugged, knowing you didn’t need him to finish that statement. Heat rushed into your core yet again at the same time your cheeks turned pink. Dean slanted his mouth against yours, moaning softly into your mouth when your lips parted for his tongue. You all but melted into his arms, wondering what had taken you so long to get over this non-blood brother issue. You could’ve been having the best sex of your life had you not been so brainwashed to think that sleeping with Dean was some horrible, awful thing. He slowly pulled away from your lips. “Our little secret is safe, baby girl,” he muttered.

You had no idea how, but Dean could just about read your mind. He knew exactly how to get you to react, what to say, how to touch you, and even how to look at you. You were beyond putty in his hands – you were _his_ and nothing had ever felt more right. The two of you finished showering with Dean soaping you up silently, occasionally placing a soft kiss on the back of your neck or shoulder. When he was done, you returned the favor, openly worshipping his body as you dragged your sudsy loofah across his skin. He made sure you were thoroughly rinsed off, running his large hands all over your body, lifting your breasts and gliding over your ass cheeks before he leaned in and turned off the water.

When you began toweling off, he cupped your jaw gently and kissed you yet again. It was a lazy kiss, both of you just exploring each other’s mouths and enjoying the taste of one another. Nothing else mattered when Dean’s lips and tongue were against yours. The urge to tell him you loved him became overwhelming and you pulled away slowly so as not to alarm him.

“Mh,” he grunted, his eyes half-lidded as he gazed down at you.

“I have to go do laundry,” you whispered, gently stepping back from him and pulling your robe around yourself.

Dean nodded, his expression difficult to read. Carefully, you opened the bathroom door and checked that the coast was clear before you exited and hurried across the hall to your room. Dean slid out a moment later and went into his own room.

Sam, downstairs, listened curiously as both of your bedroom doors shut.

**Author's Note:**

> *sigh* wellp. part 3 imminent.


End file.
